The warm hand is removed
and what is left behind is both cold and warm
at the same time
a breeze lifts the gauzy curtains
and brushes over the sweat damp skin
like a caress.
A kiss on the lips
leaves a tingle
a tongue flicks to taste the sweetness left behind
eyes slowly open
and what was once there is gone
or perhaps it was just a ghost
or the whispering fingers of the wind
And does the ear not hear a voice
or is it just the beating of this lonely heart
are all these words and poems
left to make a life seemed lived
while it coils in its shell
Everything that has come before this
is a lie.
And all that I am is the truth.
Waiting for the time
when the shadows pass across the room
dawn to dusk
and the moon rises
dusk to dawn.
trying to grow a pearl.